


Worship

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, No Dialogue, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wings, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 14:58:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Aziraphale worships at the altar of Crowley





	Worship

Aziraphale has Crowley in his bed, naked and moaning, though he’s hardly been touched. His heart aches with just how much Crowley craves loving attention.

Leaning down, Aziraphale mouths Crowley’s hip, tasting the constellation of freckles. Crowley jerks but Aziraphale keeps him in place, earning another soft moan and a shiver.

There is much Aziraphale wants to say. He wants to tell Crowley that he’s beautiful. That he can see the light in him but loves the darkness just as much. That he is perfect as he is and that he longs to run his fingers through his ebony wings. That, if asked, he would forsake all other worship except at that the temple of Crowley.

It is blasphemy. But that makes it no less true.

Slowly, Aziraphale moves his attention to his other hip, for the moment ignoring Crowley’s manhood, leaking with need. He’ll see to that soon enough. Right now he wants to tell Crowley he is loved with every lick and nibble, wants to hold him securely and chase away all the nightmares that linger on the edges of his memory.

Aziraphale has his own nightmares now. Hellfire he never set foot in. Angels with sneers and disdain and fists telling him he is wrong, that this love is wrong, that he is all but fallen.

Crowley’s hand in his hair grounds him, brings him back to the present. Aziraphale looks up at Crowley and sees the understanding and adoration in his eyes. He moves up and kisses him deeply, feeling skin on skin. They are here. They are alive.

Slowly, Aziraphale kisses down Crowley’s chest. He can feel invisible scars. His hands and mouth map every inch of his lover’s skin. Crowley moans out his name, spreading himself open, offering himself to the heat and love and touch of Aziraphale.

It is a gift Aziraphale will gladly take.

He places a kiss on each hip, then pushes up Crowley’s knees, dragging his tongue against him.

Crowley curses, something that might make plants shrivel and wilt but to Aziraphale it may as well be the music of heaven. He presses his tongue into him, tasting him inside and out, feeling the way he moves and writhes under him.

Groaning, Crowley squeezes his own cock, clearly trying to hold off. It makes Aziraphale preen, to know that he can so thoroughly ruin a demon.

Finally, Aziraphale pulls back. He wipes his mouth and lets loose his wings. Crowley’s eyes widen and he moves his hand to grasp the sheet. _I am yours_ , he says with every line of his body.

Aziraphale leans down and kisses him again, wings arching as if to hide them from view. Crowley moans against his lips, wanting to touch and restraining himself. As if he were not worthy.

But he is. Aziraphale knows beyond any doubt. His hands hung stars. His words tempted Eve. He is Her creation and is just as deserving as any other. 

Aziraphale guides himself into Crowley’s willing body.

Crowley gasps and cries out his pleasure, hands twisting in the sheets. Aziraphale reaches over and takes one hand, placing it on his waist, then the other. Crowley pulls him down, desperately seeking his kisses, the weight of him. He wants to be surrounded and consumed until nothing remains of himself.

Gently, Aziraphale runs fingers through Crowley’s hair. He moves steadily, an even keel to Crowley’s drowning waves. Gradually Crowley calms, surrenders, accepts what Aziraphale is offering him, even if he doesn’t quite believe it.

Only once he feels the surrender does Aziraphale speed his thrusts. Crowley moans again, turning his face away from Aziraphale's love. Aziraphale whispers in his ear, punctuating the crest of his thrusts with all of the things Crowley needs to hear. Crowley shakes with it, eyes screwed tightly closed.

Aziraphale cups Crowley’s cheek and turns his face towards him. Crowley opens his eyes and sees Aziraphale’s face, then his eyes slam shut again as he comes hard between them.

Moaning softly, Aziraphale follows him over. Crowley is still shaking underneath him, still wanting to refuse Aziraphale’s offerings, still believing himself unworthy of anything holy. It breaks Aziraphale’s heart, but he will keep giving, in the hopes that one day he will truly accept and believe.

Carefully, Aziraphale pulls out and waves them clean. He rolls Crowley onto his side, holding him securely, wrapping him in his arms and his wings as if he could shield them both from all the cruelty of above and below.

Gradually their hearts will slow. They’ll doze together. A shaft of sunlight makes it way through the window and touches them both, as if in silent and warm benediction.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to irrevoccably_sherlocked for encouraging and reading along, and also Beltainefaerie.
> 
> You can find me on twitter and tumblr at merindab


End file.
